


Alone On His Throne

by sarahandthegraveyardshift



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Graphic Depictions of Illness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 13:58:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1349944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahandthegraveyardshift/pseuds/sarahandthegraveyardshift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A man, some kook of a magician or something, made this cure for the dying king...They were in love, the king and his adviser."</p><p>Do you believe in reincarnation?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone On His Throne

The king was dying.

"Your Highness," Derek leaned down over the young king's right shoulder, "you grow worse."

"Thank you, Derek, but I do not need my own people to point out the obvious," Stiles whispered without any real vehemence. He slouched further in his throne chair and lowered his head, closing his eyes. "I am tired."

"May I escort you to your chambers?" Derek offered, placing a gentle hand on the other's arm, but the young man merely shook his head, turning to his closest friend with blood-laced eyes. It took all of Derek's will not to turn away, to disregard the pain in his king's face.

"I am _weary_ ," the young man explained further, "of watching my people suffer this disease, this plague." He sighed and looked out over his near-barren chamber. Very few courtiers remained in the kingdom, most having fled to other countries to escape the epidemic and others having lost their lives to it. "You are certain our alchemists are working for a cure?"

"As quickly as they can, Highness," Derek nodded, kneeling beside the throne chair and keeping his voice as low as possible. "I have taken charge recently because of...set backs."

"Set backs?" the king questioned, not really needing to know the answer but expected to ask for one nonetheless.

"Our head-alchemist was recently taken by the disease," the adviser said regretfully, "but all his notes and research are well preserved and should not take long to decipher. There will be a cure, Highness. I swear it."

"Do not swear to anything you cannot deliver upon, Derek," the young king advised. "My people are suffering enough without their hope for an end to this sickness being quelled."

"I _swear_ it, Stiles," Derek whispered with all the sincerity he could muster.

0 o Many Years Later o 0

"Derek?" Stiles's head was on fire, sweat pouring off him in sheets as he twisted beneath the hospital blanket restlessly. "D-Derek?"

"I'm here," the older man soothed, sitting on the side of Stiles's bed and taking his hand in his. "I'm here, Stiles. It's all right."

The young man whimpered as blood-tears tracked down his cheeks. His breaths came in sharp gusts, each one causing him pain. "I'm tired," he choked, squeezing the strong hand gripping his. "So tired . . . When will this be over?"

"Soon," Derek said, running the fingers of his free hand through the other's sweaty, tangled locks and grinding his teeth as Stiles turned blood-red eyes on him. "Real soon. They're flying the medicine you need in as we speak. It'll be here by tonight, so you just have to hang in there, okay? It'll be all right."

"Pr—" Stiles stopped and swallowed the blood at the back of his throat with a grimace. "Promise, Der?"

"Yeah."

"Don't say it unless you mean it," Stiles chastised, arcing slightly as a sharp pain ran through his body.

Derek was quiet for a moment, watching the young man as he toiled over what to say next. "You know...this medicine that's coming, a couple of centuries ago, they didn't have it. A lot of people died." Stiles settled some, relaxing as Derek's rough voice lulled him like a boat out on the ocean, waves lapping at the sides and rocking the vessel lightly. "But a man, some kook of a magician or something, made this cure for the dying king."

The younger man smiled, his teeth painted a bright crimson. "They were in love," he recited slowly, closing his eyes. "The king and his adviser."

Derek's head cocked sideways. "I thought I was the only one who knew that story."

"But the king died before it was finished," Stiles continued sadly. "A few days, Derek. If he had only held on for a few more days, he would have been okay. And they would have lived happily ever after."

"They will," the older man said, his voice no more than a whisper as his throat closed around the words. "They _are_. I promise, Stiles."

**Author's Note:**

> Something I'd like to see expanded. Probably not something I'll ever have time to do myself, though. :/


End file.
